bathing suit shopping #2

No, not another “shopping for bathing suits story”. This is all about shopping IN your bathing suit. This week I’m in Puglia, at a beach resort where I have been going with my family ever since the kids were little. It’s easy, comfortable and thoroughly relaxing. Kind of like being on a big cruise ship that never leaves port.

The best part about it of course, is the pristine beach. Gorgeous white sand, crystal clear water. And, over the last few years, more and more shopping opportunities. Now, I know it’s been a while since I spent time at the beach in other countries, but as far as I can tell, this kind of shopping doesn’t exist elsewhere.

When we first started coming here, about 15 years ago, there was one local guy who used to walk up and down the beach with a blue bucket yelling “Mandorle Fresche! Coco Fresco!” Fresh almonds and coconut. He’s still there, but is now joined by at least two dozen other roving vendors.

I’m sure you’ve seen these guys in Florence or Rome. Spreading out their wares on the streets. Usually knock off purses and sunglasses. But here in the south they walk up an down the beach, selling all kinds of stuff. And, since I’ve got not much else to do other than read the latest Stephen King novel, I’m all up for a bit-o-shopping.

Like the vendors in the cities, these folks come from all over. Senegal, Togo, India, Pakistan. But here are a few locals as well. It certainly is colorful.

One of the first guys to show up, at least 10 years ago, lugs three HUGE trash bags around. When he plops them down in front of our beach, the crowds descend and start pulling out his colorful beach cover ups, holding them up as they blow in the breeze. I’ve gotten some of my favorite cotton dashikis from him over the years.

 
All of a sudden this year there are scores of Indians. They are very elegantly dressed, and usually carry a small bag over their shoulder. They kneel at your feet, and gracefully lay out their wares: silver earrings, bangles and necklaces.


The Africans are usually weighted down with all sorts of stuff. Sunglasses, wooden carvings and beach gadgets like beach volley paddles, goggles, etc.




Every so often you see a local guy, with incredibly expensive ‘local’ crafts. This guy had some lovely baskets and purses, but since I was almost 100% sure they were all from China, I just couldn’t justify spending 50 euros for a small evening bag. (although another family snapped up five!)


Does this exist in any other country? Has anyone seen them in France or Spain?

focaccia in bari

Every year we spend a week at a seaside hotel in Puglia. Domenico is from Bari, and his mother still lives there. So we make the 4 1/2 hour drive to Bari, pick her up, and continue another 3 hours to Ugento. Although we’ve been doing this about 15 years, each year seems like the first. Do we leave Rome on Friday? And stop in Bari? Or leave Saturday, and drive right on through. From year to year, we can never quite remember how we did it the year before. 

This year, since Rome was infernally hot, we decided to definitely leave the day before, if only to get the hell out of town. My thinking was that we’d leave Bari about 11 on Saturday, and stop on the way somewhere for lunch. Easier said than done. Since this is southern Italy, we realized we didn’t really feel like leaving our car full of luggage unattended while we were in a restaurant. 

This is where the focaccia comes into the story.

Once we decided to eat lunch in Bari, what to eat was a no-brainer. When it comes to a meal you really don’t want to cook, but do want to eat at home, the barese head to the Focacciaro. Although I’m sure there are many of these all over town, the one near Domenico’s family home is - according to most - one of the best.

So. Focaccia. What’s the difference between focaccia and pizza? Like most things in Italy, it matters where you are. One Neopolitan’s  pizza may be  another Roman’s  focaccia. But if you happen to be in Bari, focaccia is ideally a small round of dough, rolled out thin, then very lightly topped with a few small cherry tomatoes (sometimes fresh, sometimes those ones that get hung up to dry that only exist here), olive oil, 2 or 3 black olives and a sprinkling of oregano. No cheese. 

The focaccia from the Focacciaro is one of my favorite things in the world. It’s a bit chewy in the center, getting crispier out towards the edges. The crust is one of the best parts, and is crunchy and covered with a slick of olive oil and bits of caramelized tomato. 

While focaccia is the speciality here, it’s not the only thing people wait in line for. Small panzarotti filled with mozzarella and tomato or else ground meat are scrumptious. As are the rustic tarts, filled with slowly cooked onions. 

So, if you are in Bari, make sure you stop by here. It’s in the new part of town, just a block away from the lungomare that runs along the sea. Pick up a focaccia or two, a bag full of panzarotti and have a picnic right on the water. 

Il Focacciaro

Tel: 080 554 0998

Via Salvatore Cognetti 43

Bari

zucchini ricotta soup

Two things coincided last week. My first zucchini from the garden (hurray!) and Sophie getting two wisdom teeth removed (not so hurray!). She had them yanked in Rome, and Domenico picked her up directly from the dentist and brought her to Todi, where I”d been spending the week.

For those of you who know Sophie you know the main thing she was worried about was what she was going to eat while recuperating. Sophie is, to put it mildly, a good eater. This means she not only eats a lot, but thinks about what she is going to eat and is very demanding when it comes to quality. Sound familiar?

Anyway, by the time she arrived I knew she was going to be famished, since they hadn’t allowed her to eat since the night before. I knew I had to have something filling and delicious - but liquid - waiting for her.

My first zucchini from the garden provided the answer. Here follows the recipe for the soup she immediately slurped up. I knew I had to make it filling and feel like more than just baby food, so I added a heaping spoonful of sheep’s milk ricotta to each serving. I served it chilled (there is a heat wave going on here, and also Sophie couldn’t eat warm food) but I imagine it would be equally delicious warm.

Zucchini Ricotta Soup

2 medium sized zucchini (about 1/2 pound)
1 shallot
1 small onion
1 Tablespoon Olive Oil
3 garlic cloves
1 large, ripe tomato
2 cups broth (i used vegetable, but any will do) 
salt and pepper
1 cup ricotta*
lemon juice
fresh herbs

Chop onion, shallot and garlic and saute in olive oil until softened (about 5 minutes). Add chopped tomato, and stir another five minutes. Add chopped zucchini, stir then add broth. Bring to a boil and let simmer until zucchini is just cooked (about 10 to 15 minutes).

Let cool, then puree. If you are going to serve it chilled put it in the refrigerator.

Just before serving, add ricotta and whisk in until it dissolves. Add a juice from half lemon and stir. Top with fresh herbs if you’d like (basil, dill or tarragon) and a drizzle of olive oil on top of each serving.

*I used pure sheep's milk ricotta, from the local farmer, very rich and creamy.

Additions/changes: Since I had such great zucchini (small and full of flavor) and incredible ricotta, I didn't have to jazz things up that much. But feel free to play around. I'm sure next time I'll add a hot pepper from the garden. But remember, don't load in other vegetables. You don't want it tasting like minestrone (or maybe you do? But then this recipe's not for you).

buying a bathing suit in rome

A lot of my friends call me The Enabler. No, it's not because I mix them one more cocktail than they really need (although I do that too). It's because I can justify almost any extravagant purchase. Especially when it's not my own.

Today’s Enabling Moment: shopping for a justifiably expensive swim suit in Rome. (Sorry boys, I promise to follow up with a gender friendly post tomorrow).

Bathing suit shopping is rarely a happy experience. And believe me if you hated it when you were thirty, just wait. It only gets worse. I sort of start hoping the dressing rooms won’t have mirrors.

This is why I was very happy to discover Eres bathing suits. My first Eres moment came thanks to a strangely helpful salesperson in Rome. I say strangely only because Roman salespeople are known world wide for their rudeness. But I’ve come to find, over the years, that lingerie stores are different. And the two stores on Via Frattina in Rome, Tusseda and Brighenti, are charming, helpful and compassionate when it comes to trying things on.

And yes, you heard me right, in Italy you buy swimsuits in lingerie stores.



Back to my moment. While dismally trying on about 20 suits I had picked out in my price range, the saleslady slipped in one, saying “it’s a bit more than you wanted to spend, but just try it. Trust me.” I did, and was immediately converted.

The Eres suits are made by a French company. Most of the designs are tastefully subtle. The colors saturated, but never too much. They don’t do patterns. They sometimes do clasps and things, but always elegant. And great wraps and cover ups. But where Eres suits really sing is in the cut and the material. I’m not sure what kind of stretchy miracle stuff they are using, but it really just sucks you in, and stays there. No wiggling. And the cuts are revealing enough to not feel like your grandmother, but never let odd bits work their way out.

Yes, that first year I was seduced and spent way too much on the suit. But then I learned that come mid-July they go on sale. At least here in Rome. So, each year I allow myself one new suit. I'm off to Via Frattina in Rome tomorrow, where two of my favorite lingerie stores are located. See you there?

Tusseda
Via Frattina 25
Brighenti
Via Frattina 7

asian bloody mary

Frank ran a really fun piece on the Bloody Mary last week in the Times. Although you know I am a cocktail kind of girl, making a Bloody Mary had somehow slipped off my radar. I think it’s because I have such a hard time getting horseradish which I've always considered essential.

Once I started thinking about them, I couldn’t get a Bloody Mary out of my mind. I wanted a Bloody Mary bad. But I was out in Todi, the land of no horseradish and certainly no worcester sauce. So, I started to think up substitutions based on what I could find at the local supermarket or in my garden.


Once I hit upon using grated ginger in place of horseradish, the rest of the ingredients came in quick Asian succession. Thai basil, soy sauce and lime.

By the way, we all tried to think of something better to call it, but anything with ‘bloody’ in the title just sounded either political or gross. If you can think of a better name, let me know.

Asian Bloody Mary

2 1/2 oz vodka
1/2 cup tomato juice
2 slices of fresh ginger plus more for grating
small piece of hot green thai-type pepper
soy sauce
thai basil*
lime
celery

Pour vodka, sliced ginger, green pepper and a few leaves of basil in a cocktail shaker. Muddle well. Give it a few shakes (no ice yet) and strain the vodka into a glass. Add tomato juice. Squeeze in and add a wedge of lime. Grate in as much fresh ginger as you'd like. (it plays the role of horseradish in this recipe) and a few drops of soy sauce. Stir, then add ice. Garnish with celery and sprig of basil.

*I have a small plant of this basil in my garden. And although it says “Greek Basil” it’s very similar to Thai.

italian rustic with a modern twist

Here follows a guest blog I posted on my friend, photo-stylist,  Annette Joseph's blog a while back: 

I write about a lot of things for a lot of people. One day I’ll be writing about pumpkin-stuffed ravioli, and the next day it will be wrought iron lamps. What ties most of this together is - usually - impeccable taste. Finding luscious things to write about in Italy is almost too easy some times. But given all that choice - art, food, travel, monuments - what seems to pull me in time and again is Italian rustic architecture. (Is that why I married an Italian architect? Or was it the other way around?) And in fact, most of my books, including my most recent, Italian Rustic, always pull me back to that theme. 

One of the things I love about Italian rustic architecture is the chance to explore how the layers of Italy come together. Within the framework of an old farmhouse restoration, new  solutions are born. Architects, designers and homeowners adapt these ancient buildings in ways I always find inspiring and exciting. One of the masters of this type of adaption is Ilaria Miani, a Rome-based interior designer.

Miani’s career as one of Italy’s most successful designers came about almost by chance. She and her husband Giorgio had bought a crumbling ruin in Umbria about 20 years ago. Setting out to restore it, they knew that they wanted to retain the original architecture and spirit of the stone structure. But they wanted to avoid at all costs the fake rustic ‘country’ look that was all the rage in Italy. Think gingham curtains and lots of ruffles. Yet going sleek and modern wasn’t really what they had in mind either.

“I didn’t want to give up the elements that I loved about rustic design” Miani told me, “The feeling of handcrafted objects, using local materials  crafted in the same workshops that had been operating for centuries. This is what I wanted, but couldn’t find.” 

So Miani decided to design her own line of furnishings. Seeking out local craftsmen in Umbria and Tuscany, she designed items that she herself wanted. First filling up her own homes, her work soon became known and she was swamped with requests from friends and other designers for similar pieces. She proceeded to open a showroom and store on Rome’s chic Via Monserrato and continues  to explore the connections between ancient materials and methods married to cutting edge design.

Miani’s playground continues to be the houses she and her husband restore in Tuscany.  They have just finished house number eight, and are a constant source of inspiration for me.  I was lucky enough to feature three of their homes in Italian Rustic, (Here are some of my favorite images. (Photos thanks to Simon McBride)

If you’d like to rent one of their villas visit their site.(password: tower). And if you’d like to browse through Ilaria’s catalogue of furnishings visit her  store's web site:  (password: tiramisu)

'nduja - spicy, fatty, pork heaven

My friend Susan came to Todi for lunch two weeks ago. She is from LA, but had spent the week in Florence at a conference. So, naturally, I expected she would show up with either some goodies from California, where she lives, or maybe Florence. But no. She showed up with a shopping bag full of sausages and other tidbits from Calabria. As it turns out one of her best friends had come all the way from Italy’s toe to visit her in Florence, and brought along not only sausages, but also tuna and mackerel.

As Susan started to unload the bag, I couldn’t believe how much stuff there was. But, sadly, it wasn’t all meant for me. “Which of these things do you think I can smuggle back into the States,” she asked. Ok. Since I’m known as the ‘answer lady’ in some circles, I thought “Hmm...I could say almost anything and she’d believe me, and I’d have all of this loot to myself!” But no. I was honest. Most of the sausage was shrink wrapped, and the fish was canned or jarred. But, lucky lucky me, the most interesting booty was a huge, greasy hunk of ‘njuda, barely wrapped in a piece of saran wrap.

I knew full well that the LAX beagles would disembowel Susan’s luggage to get at this stuff, so I had no qualms about taking it out of her hands.

‘Nduja, (pronounced en-DOO-ya) comes from Calabria and is a soft, spicy spreadable sausage. The only ingredients are pork, pork fat, and lots and lots of hot red pepper. Unlike other salame, there is so much fat it can’t be cut into slices. It’s always spread on warm bread or crostini, or else used to dress pasta.

I actually had never bought it before, and certainly had never cooked with it. While we were still in Todi I used it to top a pizza, and it was amazing! Back in Rome on Sunday night I thought I’d have a go at pasta. There is a really delicious dish served at Taverna dei Fori Imperiali that uses ‘Nduja and Broccoletti (Broccoli Rabe), but that was way out of season. I did, however, have four small zucchinis in the fridge, so started from there. Here’s the recipe below, which turned out scrumptious, and actually not too spicy. I somehow suspect there was a bit of sugar in the sausage, because it caramelized deliciously.

Pasta with ‘Nduja and Zucchini

250 grams/ 1/2 pound of ‘nduja*
1 red onion
2 Tablespoons olive oil
4 small zucchini, coarsely grated
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 cup white wine
1/2 cup chopped parsley
1 pound pasta (I used rigatoni, any short pasta will do) 

Heat oil in large frying pan, big enough to hold the drained, cooked pasta.

Add chopped onion, cook gently until soft. Add grated zucchini, and cook at higher heat until wilted. Add salt and garlic, and cook for one minute. Add crumbled ‘nduja, and stir around, breaking it up until it sort of just melts apart. Remember, it’s a salame, and so already cooked. You don’t have to worry about it being ‘done’ and you certainly don’t want to cook it too long. Add wine and let it boil away.

In the meantime cook pasta in boiling, salted water. Drain, reserving a cup of the pasta water. Add drained pasta to the ‘nduja mixture and stir until well mixed, adding some of the pasta water to make it loser and creamy. Add parsley, toss and serve.


*Where to find ‘Nduja
In theory you can’t import ‘Nduja due to pork import restrictions, but I did find this company that seems to ship to the States:
Eterni Sapori di Calabria

Also Boccalone is making it in the States, but I haven’t tried it yet and it doesn’t really look like the stuff that comes from Calabria. Has anyone tried it?

Festa dell’Unita - Eating under the Pines in Rome

I’m not one of those complainers when it comes to living in Rome (you know who you are). That said, there is one thing that I wish the city would improve. Rome has got to be one of the greenest cities I know, with tons of beautiful parks and the Tiber running right through its heart. But unlike Paris, which sets up great ways to enjoy the riverside and the jardins with bars and restaurants, Rome’s amenities  usually leave a lot to be desired. 

While there could - and should - be outdoor eateries in the parks all year long, at least in the summer things change for the better. Last night we went to the Festa dell’Unita. Up until now I had just thought it was an annoying obstacle to my morning run in the park near the baths of Caracalla. But last night I realized it’s one of the funnest places to eat this month in Rome. 

While you can get the schedule of events here, they are mostly political (i.e boring and endless). For those of you who don’t know, the Festa dell’Unita used to be run by the communist party, now run by its offshoot the Partito Democratico. But you can ignore all that. Just go for the food.

There must be about fifteen restaurants set up, some big, some small. Prices are low, and the variety huge: middle Eastern, Paella, Calabrian, fish, grilled meats, Roman Jewish plus a handful of pastry and ice cream places. We stopped by the Cuban booth for a surprisingly good pina colada. 

I was really happy to see a big sign for Agricultura Nuova, the organic cooperative that supplies me with a weekly box of fruit and vegetables. They had a huge and very elaborate grill going, so we sat down at the tables under the umbrella pines and ordered sausages, salad and potatoes. Delicious. 

We’re definitely going back before it closes on July 31. But we’ll also be going to the other summer outdoor event that I love, along the banks of the Tiber Island. Again, lots of restaurants and - what I love - bars where you can sip a real cocktail with your feet almost dangling in the Tiber. 

Festa dell'Unita 

Viale delle Terme di Caracalla 

Until July 31